Rain is Murder
by mythstoorfoot
Summary: Scott Shelby is the judge and rain is the executioner. Take a venture into the warped and tortured mind of a killer whose worst crime is remorse. Huge spoilers, obviously.


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**Rain is Murder**

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Author's note: _I realised a while back that there is a disgracefully small amount of Shelby fic on this site. Considering he is such a great, complex character I thought this was rather upsetting. ): So after much procrastinating I finally got around to writing some myself. And before you read any more - massive, game-breaking spoilers lie ahead!_

_I just love Shelby, and I can't help symapathising with him despite all he's done. __A pretty large gripe I had with the game was that after revealing Scott as the killer, he kind of deteriorated into a carboard-cut out kids' villain, and we never got to hear more about his past or his motivations. I tried to capture some of his detachment from the murders and the way in which he doesn't view them as his fault - as suggested by his modus operandi - but seeing as the game leaves a lot of his sinister activities up to the player's imagination, this was kind of a shot in the dark. It's sort of how I like to imagine Scott, though, because in his own twisted way he believes he's just as moral as Ethan. There are two dual layers to this fanfic, highlighting how confused Shelby has become, which should be clear when you read it._

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The rain is murder.

The orchid is an apology which says I am sorry: I am sorry you have been hurt, I am sorry the innocence has left you, sorry your father did not care, sorry your mother will cry, sorry you had to be born into this friendless, merciless world. Believe me when I say I wish it wasn't this way. I wish someone loved you enough to save you.

But I will remember you, I will never let your death go to waste, and I will avenge your betrayal with blood and tears. I am your only friend.

The origami is a symbol of corrupted virtue, of a stolen childhood, of simpler times. It reminds us of the past and that which must be recaptured.

The body is a sacrifice of flesh for the sake of humanity, family, and love. It is a pleading; a beckoning; and an incalculably precious prize for the worthy. More valuable than all the stars in heaven and on earth you are, but do you realise it? Of course not. You are just a little boy, gasping for breath, struggling to stay conscious, your hands turning blue as they reach upwards to the sky, grappling for devotion.

The rain is cold. The rain is cruel. The rain will never stop falling for you and for me.

I hate your face, when you look at me with so much horror and dread. Do you not see? I am not the enemy - I have helped you, I have comforted you, I have given you salvation. He is the enemy. He is the one who has not come to you and who is forcing you to tread water as your bones freeze to the core. Pray not for yourself, for I am your guardian angel and I will protect you to the end. Only pray for him - and hope with all of your tiny stuttering heart that he can find it in himself to be a true father whose love for you will carry him across rivers, over mountains, round the earth until you are safe and warm in his arms.

The rain is murder. It is icy, unfeeling, unhallowed murder, it can never be forgiven, it shall never be forgotten, it sends the accused to their own eternal lagoon in which they will thrash about, exhausted and bitterly cold, for the rest of time. I accepted this fate long ago.

Every day I beg and I beseech, imploring to the churning clouds that you might be the one - the one to live, to be loved, to be rescued as you should have been so many years before. To redeem us all. If I can rectify the past then you and I will both find our deliverance, and I will welcome death with open arms. When you are liberated from your lagoon I will weep with sweet joy; I will praise your rescuer as if he is a holy dream; and I will also shoulder the entirety of the blame. I will receive their chains, their guns, their steel doors, without a word. These things are frosty to the touch but they can never be as bleak as those frigid waters.

I have offered my life in return for your redemption and I do not regret a moment. Never think I regret what I have done. When the time comes, I shall willingly surrender all that I am for you.

Remember I will always love you, then turn your face to the sky and feel the caress of heaven's tears.

The rain is murder: but perhaps not for you.


End file.
